


The Wednesday Zone

by Bonymaloney



Series: Fighting It At Every Turn [2]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Biting, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Play Fighting, Uniform Kink, dat spiral though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonymaloney/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: It was a practice uniform, a second-rate one at that, the kind of thing factory hands with no hope of being selected for the big leagues would wear for an intra-Corporate tournament. But the jersey, big and loose without the pads, draped her frame in a way that was almost elegant; the collar dipping down to reveal the tips of her clavicles.
Relationships: The Captain/Maximillian DeSoto
Series: Fighting It At Every Turn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629799
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

“The Universe is efficient, it’s rational. It was perfectly constructed and set in motion by the Architect.”

“But it doesn’t work perfectly.”

“That’s because people don’t accept their place in it! The Purpose of the OSI is to help people to understand their role in the Plan, to see that they are exactly where the Architect placed them.”

“So we should just accept our misfortunes as for the good of the greater whole?”

“Exactly.”

“Rationally.”

“Yes!”

“Like not spend five minutes cussing out a hole in the road cause you got your foot caught in there.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Maybe the Architect put that hole there for a reason.”

“ _Fuck. Off_.”

The problem with the Captain, Max seethed to himself, was her lack of purpose. She epitomised the dissolute nature of those who turned their back on the Plan - so much energy that might have been transferred into useful work; wasted instead on frivolities. With no meaningful focus to her not inconsiderable will, her attention wandered hither and yon, and the pleasure she took in a new distraction was surely a sin of commission, not mere omission. 

He had been impressed with the skilful and efficient way she retrieved the information he needed from the Groundbreaker security office; but then Ms Holcomb had decided she needed romantic advice, and apparently that merited equal attention. He’d gone with them to the Lost Hope, of course. Ms Holcomb was his flock, and that meant she was entitled to his guidance and protection. Max believed that sincerely, just as sincerely as he believed that the doom of Edgewater was a worthwhile price to pay for his escape. Regardless, despite his presence, the night had swiftly deteriorated from poetry appreciation and the finer points of whiskey tasting. Pearl, Parvati and Felix fucking Millstone, perching like pterorays along a thick green pipe that ran high above the Promenade. Max crawled out after them, clinging to the treacherous round surfaces and swearing furiously. 

“Udom! Hey, Udom,” they shouted, and Felix pulled something from his pocket, his throw falling woefully short of the balcony above the embassy doors. This developed into a contest of sorts, with pebbles and pieces of candy and insults all hurled in the direction of Mr Bedford. Max wished he were drunker, or less drunk; then he might have shown them how it was done. As it was, he could only cling to the pipe and stare down into the Groundbreaker’s hold, so deep he couldn’t see the bottom. It made his palms sweat, so he looked instead at the Captain. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed with laughter, and little strands of hair had come loose from her braid and were framing her face. She looked back at him, delighted, and it made his palms sweat more. 

Eventually the Mardets had hauled them down. Max was sure they were facing a night in the brig; but they had Captain Tennyson’s favour, and were free to stagger their way back to their ship. The following day, nursing their hangovers, they had set course for Monarch; where absolutely nothing changed. The Captain had them poking around the dump that was Stellar Bay and it’s environs, and it was only a matter of time before someone injured themselves.

Filthy and sweaty, ankle hurting; he shucked off his armour in the hold with the others and then sat scowling in the kitchen until his turn came to make use of the shower. A small part of him was able to acknowledge that the Captain’s dig about the Architect placing obstacles in his path had resonated with his own most secret fears. But on a more immediately satisfying and visceral level, he simply knew that it made him angry, and the fucking hole in the road made him angry, and the the entire fucking expanse of Monarch that lay between him and Chaney made him fucking angry. 

Max groaned and let the lukewarm water run down his back. Water ration be damned - no man could be expected to endure both the depressingly familiar stench of saltuna and the sulphur that was all Monarch. The dust rinsed away, but not the tension within him. He simply couldn’t return to his study knowing that a miserable excuse of a man had mocked him with his French book, and that he continued to mock him every time he drew breath. Max’s understanding of his place in the world, his inner peace; and his triumph in the faces of those who had doubted him. All of which were intimately connected in his unconscious, all being disrupted by Reginald fucking Chaney. 

Max had seen enough of Monarch to reluctantly conclude that he probably wouldn’t survive the journey to Fallbrook alone. He would simply have to talk to the Captain again; to make her see how important she was to the continuation of his work. Decision made, he immediately felt easier; and although the prospect of taking to her normally irked him, he felt his spirits lift. He squared his shoulders and began to lather up his hair. Cleanliness was next to Lawfulness, and it was vital to impress upon her the urgency of his need. Dressed, groomed and restored, he made his way to the front of the ship; forcing himself to stop and tap on the bulkhead outside her cabin.

“Captain. A moment of your time, please?”

“What’s on your mind, Max?”

Pearl stood up from her desk, gesturing him in. Her hair was clean and shiny, a soft dark mass held back in her customary braid. There was a little half-smile of anticipation on her face, and she was wearing…

It was a practice uniform, a second-rate one at that, the kind of thing factory hands with no hope of being selected for the big leagues would wear for an intra-Corporate tournament. But the jersey, big and loose without the pads, draped her frame in a way that was almost elegant; the collar dipping down to reveal the tips of her clavicles. The lowers clung to her long muscular legs, outlining her quadriceps and her powerful curves. She was an inch taller than he was, and he was tall. Her eyes were clear, her heart fierce. In a few generations the humans of Halcyon would have fully adapted to their environment, and more and more people would be like her; but still she was utterly striking. 

“Earth to Max! Monarch, Terra Two, whatever.”

She was downright smirking now, and he frowned. 

“I merely wanted to ask, Captain, how long it might be until we continue our journey?”

“We only just got here! Remember how hard we had to work for that navkey? I want to get my money’s worth.”

No sense of urgency, no drive, no _purpose_. He was so very close to where he needed to be! Max unclenched his jaw.

“But surely the landing, satisfying as it may be, was merely the first step? My objective, your objective, they both lie beyond Stellar Bay. We are wasting our time... risking our lives running errands for those who were foolhardy enough to stay behind when they were offered relocation, and yet seem utterly unable to handle the realities of life in such a place!” The uniform was so damned distracting. Max bit down on his temper, but she had already spotted her opening. 

“Like potholes in the road?”

He felt his face flush and he turned on his heel, but she touched her hand to his shoulder and he paused. 

“Ok, I’m sorry for that. It’s two things. One - Gladys nearly cleaned us out, and we need to make some bits. We need to pay our field guide, and we're gonna need good kit and plenty of ammo for the trip. I think we’ve seen enough of Monarch already to know that. Besides, my favourite gunhand might be leaving us at Fallbrook and I’d have to hire a replacement.”

Max took a deep breath and studied her face. She had an uncanny way of noticing things sometimes. Did she know? But if anything, her smile was a little softer now. He breathed out. 

“Two?”

“Two - we’re both here for information - the scholar, the broker. Well these people have information, they were here before and after the Board left! They’ve seen both sides, they can tell it like it is.”

“I would have thought a man with the title of Information Broker might more than suffice.”

“Yeah, but he’s Phineas’ guy. He won’t be objective.”

“Why this desire to remain in a terrorist’s good graces, anyway? The man won’t even talk to you without a sheet of bulletproof glass between you.”

“I bet Reed Tobson wishes he would have had a sheet of bulletproof glass. I can’t expect him to know what I’m going to do when I don’t know it myself yet either.”

Her face grew solemn and sad, no doubt reflecting upon the decisions she had taken upon herself to make without the surety of the Plan to guide her. Max wanted to bring her the comfort he was trained to provide; wanted desperately to lift the jersey up over her head so that her arms remained entangled in it and he could have his way with her. 

“The Architect knows,” he said softly. She raised her middle finger at him, and he chuckled. “Heathen. So, what is this in aid of?” He gestured at the practice jersey. “I take it our friend Nell is a little short on her shipment?”

“It’s comfortable. And it’s Monarch. Anything could’ve happened to this uniform.” She struck a pose vaguely like the one on Felix’s Rizzo's Rangers poster, and Max just laughed. She was so beautiful and she was the one thing keeping him from where he needed to be, an obstacle equal parts fascinating and frustrating. Like any 5th-back worth his salt, the sight of her in that uniform made him want to plough through her, leave her reeling in his wake; but he also wanted to sweep her along with him to share his triumph.

“That stance is fucking terrible. I could take you apart in half a second; and I’d take the ball too. I’d hit you here… and here… and - ”

He reached in as he spoke and poked two fingers into her ribs; the point where her clavicle attached to her shoulder.

“You could try,” she grinned, and she grabbed his wrist as he went for a third strike.


	2. Chapter 2

Pearl pulled Max off balance as she leaned into him with her shoulder and put one leg behind his. If she leaned any further he’d be on his ass. But he had a brawler’s instincts and he got his other arm around her. If he went down she was going down with him, and then they’d be wrestling…

“Never mind my tossball gear - you’re looking sharp yourself, Max. The hair, the fancy shirt... are you trying to impress me?”

“It’s only proper to be appropriately dressed when talking to one’s Captain. As a mark of respect.” 

Max managed to sound dignified, even prim, despite the way he was grappled with her; but his face was a little flushed, and this close she could smell something familiar on his breath. She leaned in and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth and confirming her suspicions. He tasted of Glacial Age; so he’d had a little nip of courage as well as getting his hair all fixed and fancy before he came to talk to her.

She grinned mockingly back at him. He knew that she knew, and he scowled. His free hand buried itself in her hair; holding her firmly as he kissed her back. He kissed the way she’d imagined; lips hot and eager, using his teeth a little. it was the kind of kiss you wanted to last, that at the same time promised so much more.

“So this is happening?” she panted as she broke free. 

“This is happening,” Max agreed happily, and as Pearl kissed him again all the doubts in her mind about Captainly behaviour and the secrets she was sure Max was keeping behind his gorgeous big green eyes were drowned out by a radiant chorus of _fucking finally_. She pushed his suspenders off his shoulders then ran her hands down the front of his shirt, making swift work of the buttons and revealing the soft dark hair beneath. Max was broad shouldered, a big man gone slightly to seed but with hard muscle still in his belly and his chest. He was dotted with little knots and lines of scar tissue, and as she pushed his shirt back she squeezed the warm swelling of his biceps, relishing the strength in his arms. 

There was a dark spiral etched beneath the skin on the inside of his forearm, and she paused, caressing it with a fingertip. 

“This is beautiful.”

“I did it myself. So that I would always have it with me when I was… when I needed it.”

Pearl felt a little surge of fondness for him. He’d been imprisoned for his beliefs, and though she didn’t share them she genuinely respected him for it; much as it seemed to embarrass him. 

“You did what you had to do to find answers. There’s no shame in that.”

“No,” Max said thoughtfully, and she couldn’t tell which way he meant it. She trailed a finger along his heavy brow, traced his cheekbone and then his lips, warm and velvety. He sucked her finger into his mouth, catching it between his teeth and biting down gently, then tugging his head back just enough for it to be a threat. Pearl could feel the stiffness between his legs grinding up against her, and she ran her hands down his body to the buckle of his belt. His hips surged forward and he groaned and then gasped, catching himself right on the precipice. 

“Get your Lawless hands off me,” he snarled at her. His face was flushed, and she realised with a thrill of excitement that he’d almost disgraced himself at her touch. He grabbed her wrists and moved efficient and graceful, using his weight to pin her back against her own desk. His eyes were full of want. “I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to taste every inch of you… eat your cunt until you’re begging me… you’re going to come on my cock, Captain.” His lips were beautiful when he talked, she wanted them on her mouth and her nipples and between her thighs. She wanted to excite him and provoke him and feel the uncontrolled force of his body upon her.

“You're going to come in my hand, _Vicar_.” She wrapped a leg around his waist, kicking her heel into the small of his back, driving him towards her. “You can’t hardly control yourself at the best of times.” In response, he bit her on the mouth, then kissed her jawline and licked a bead of sweat from her throat. 

Together they pulled her jersey up and over her head. Max’s hands were large and warm against her skin, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples to stiff peaks before releasing them and trailing his fingertips across the delicate skin of the underside. His mouth was warm too, warm and cruel, and Pearl moaned when he sucked her and shrieked when he bit her. He was shamelessly rough with her and she never knew which was coming next; but he took it as well as he gave it, making deep dark sexy noises when she pulled his hair and scratched at his skin. 

She arched her hips up and away from the desk, and he understood. He slid her pants down to her ankles and went to his knees before her. His nostrils flared and he made a little groaning sound as he breathed her in. She would have been a little disappointed in Max for the wild man act, if she’d thought he had any idea he was doing it. But he was grinning up at her, eyes dark and shining, an expression of pure delight on his face at the scent of her excitement. 

“So wet, I fucking love it… I’m going to make you _scream_.” 

He braced her hips with his hands, she felt his hot breath on her belly, and then he went inside her with his tongue. He teased her with long, languid licks and little kisses, until his thick fingers pushed into her and his glorious filthy full lips began to suck mercilessly at her clit. She wrapped her legs around his back and buried her fingers in his hair, and she did scream his name, hips bucking into his mouth. 

Languid with her orgasm, Pearl leaned back on her elbows, letting her legs fall apart as they dangled over the edge of the desk. Max got to his feet, wiped her juices from his five o’clock shadow with the back of his hand. He bared his teeth and nodded appreciation at the sight of her spread out before him, then unclasped his belt and pushed his pants to his knees. His dick sprang free, fat and flushed and glistening at the tip. He had thick thighs and big weighty balls, and she felt her mouth watering at the sight. He stroked himself proudly. 

“Like what you see, Captain?”

“Fuck, Max…”

He lined himself up and pushed into her, the perfect height for Pearl to wrap her legs around his waist. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned, his breath hot and wet against her skin. The fullness of him inside her was almost too sweet to bear. 

“Max…”

“Yes…”

She caressed his shoulders before trailing one hand down to pinch and tug at his nipple. His cock twitched inside her, whether at the pain or from hearing his name, she couldn’t tell. 

“Maximillian…”

“ _Fuck_ yes…”

He braced his hands on the desk to either side of her and began to move with a strong, steady pace. As his skin slapped against hers he grunted hard and regular, and she wondered if he realised it was the same sound he made when he was fighting. 

Pearl knew she wouldn’t come again, but her skin was tingly and sensitive and the sheer solidity and heat of him between her thighs and against her breasts was wonderful. She draped her arms around his neck, biting kisses into his throat and his clavicles as he pounded into her, sending shivers of achy pleasure up her spine. 

“Next time,” he muttered, “Next time I’ll have you on your knees. I’ll fuck your mouth, have you take my seed…” His voice was hot and hoarse, his eyes closed like he was imagining it.

“You fuck my mouth and I’ll fuck your asshole, deal?” she murmured in return, and slid her arms down to grab handfuls of his big round cheeks, tugging them apart as she pulled him into her with full force. He moaned at the stretch, and his eyes shot open. 

“It’s coming, I… _fuck_ , Pearl, I’m…”

Pearl pressed her forehead against his. 

“Come with me, Max...”

His wide eyes gazed deep into hers, his lips parted. She had seen Max asleep and at prayer, but she thought that somehow he’d never looked as innocent as the way he did now, astonished and delighted by their closeness. Then he threw his head back and shouted, his semen pulsing thick and hot inside her as he shuddered with pleasure. She could feel the little hairs all over his skin raising, his nipples like two hard pebbles.

They held each other for a long moment, and then Max staggered back, collapsing into the chair she’d been sitting in not so long ago. Pearl reached for the bar cart and grabbed a Spectrum, took a big bite out of it and wished it was ice cold. She handed the bottle to Max then let herself fall back onto the desk. 

“A dead man’s liquor,” he toasted her. She couldn’t tell whether he was being ironical or if he meant it as a genuine compliment. 

“A dead man’s ship. A dead man’s fucking everything, hadn’t you noticed?”

For Max, success meant that he was fated to succeed, survival meant he was destined to survive. It must be so easy. He was lounging like a jungle cat, the vodka bottle dangling from his hand as he offered it back to her. The room smelled of sex and of him. _Her_ room. 

She picked up the discarded jersey and used it to clean between her legs before tossing it back to the floor. Grabbed fresh clothes from the storage chest and dressed herself, re-braided her hair. 

“I’ll see you at dinner.”

Max looked a little taken aback, but got to his feet and buckled his trousers. Clumsy as he sometimes was when he wasn’t fighting, or fucking as it now turned out; he hopped and swore as he pulled his boots on.

He gave her a rueful nod as he left. “For what it’s worth, Captain, I don’t believe any barrier, bulletproof or otherwise, will be able to stop you once you’ve made a decision.”

“Max…”

He turned, and she grabbed him by the hair, kissed him one final time. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She closed the door behind him and returned to her desk. Straightened the papers that were all disarrayed, and continued her pouring over the corporate records she’d taken from Stellar Bay


End file.
